


Don

by lethargicProfessor



Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate universe - Mafia, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-10
Updated: 2014-04-22
Packaged: 2018-01-18 21:53:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1444189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lethargicProfessor/pseuds/lethargicProfessor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anonymous asked you:</p>
<p>for the goodluckdetective AU week: the batfam as a mob family, ie Bruce runs the underground of gotham and the rest are his second-in-commands, Jason 'died' but came back and became a policeman set on taking the Waynes down</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Don

The Wayne family was old blood in Gotham.  Everyone knew who they were, knew that they were capable of.

People knew that Judge Dent was firmly in Wayne family’s pocket.

It was common knowledge that Commissioner Gordon (the second) was part of Wayne’s inner circle despite her sweet demeanor. (The rumors circulating in the streets said that Barbara had set a hit on her father just to take the job, but that was never proven.)

On record, though, the Waynes were clean, and to an outsider, they might even seem damn charitable. The amount of institutions that were funded thanks to Wayne money were countless, and they helped Gotham grow.

But it’s like they say. Everything comes with a price.

The collectors would come, one at a time, checking in on Wayne ‘assets’. First, they would send the “good cop”, the sweet young man with the bright blue eyes and winning smile. He would gently explain the situation, dropping subtle hits and threats as the conversation continued. After he left, the target’s door would be marked with a swatch of red paint, dripping down ominously, like blood, into the vague shape of a bird.

They called him Nightwing, and he was only the first.

Wayne sent the girl when the targets were less than cooperative. Small and petite, but deadly, Black Bat was part of the muscle for the Family. When she and the fourth, Spoiler, worked together, the headcount was unprecedented.

(There had been another part of the team, a long time ago, but he was dead, and no one spoke of the dead.)

Then there was the safety net, the one person that made sure nothing was traced back to Wayne and his family. Arguably, Red Robin was the most important asset to the family. He was also deadly in his own right, and his skills had taken down everyone who had crossed the family.

They were all family, and acknowledged as such, but Damian, as actual blood, was next in line to take over for Bruce if something happened. He was brash and violent, and far less understanding than his father. If there was one good thing about Bruce Wayne, it was that he gave everyone the opportunity to prove themselves. Damian, on the other hand, much preferred to shoot first and deal with the consequences later. It led to some dispute between the two, but Damian was as loyal to his father as any of the other members of the family.

There were others, outside the inner circle, who helped Wayne however they could. Huntress and Kane worked independently of Bruce and his family, but backed him if he asked. The family in Metropolis was one of Bruce’s biggest allies, though everyone knew that one wrong move from the Kents would send both families into all-out war.

It was a careful system, reinforced by family ties and blood oaths. No one crossed Bruce Wayne and his family and got away with it.

* * *

“Todd!” The younger man glanced up, frowning.

“That’s ‘Detective’ Todd, thanks. I worked for that title,” he muttered, leaning over the map of Gotham he had spread out on his desk. “What do you want?”

The man, Jack or Jake or something, pointed back to the interrogation rooms, frowning. “Harper’s back.”

“Is he okay?” Jason walked to the back rooms, peeking in through the one-way mirror into the room. Harper leaned back in his chair as well as he could while handcuffed, the beginnings of a bruise purpling his cheek.

Kori Anders wandered over, brilliant red hair tucked into a neat bun, leaning over his shoulder. “Do you want me to bring you his file?”

Jason nodded, glancing at his watch. He had maybe ten minutes until Wayne sent his lawyer over to spring Harper. “Please. Cover for me?”

“Of course.” She smiled, kissing his cheek lightly, sliding her hand into his pocket before walking away. Jason waited until she was a distance away before checking his pocket, frowning at the flash drive that definitely hadn’t been there earlier.

He could check it later, though. He walked into the interrogation room, sitting in front of Harper slowly, his back to the security cameras. “So…Harper. Back again?”

“I missed your face and dulcet tones, Jaybird.” Harper tried to smile, but the swelling bruise twisted it into a grimace.

“What happened?” Jason  appraised the informant, absently noting the fading track marks on his arms. Harper leaned back, poking the tender flesh.

“Kids these days, man. No respect for their elders.” There were only two kids that Harper associated with, and Jason was pretty sure his daughter wouldn’t slug her dad like that. Damian Wayne, on the other hand, was more than capable enough to leave a shiner and enjoy it. He hoped that Roy had written down what had happened in the flash drive.

Jason shrugged, glancing up when Kori walked in to deliver Roy’s file. “Here.”

“Thanks.” She nodded and left, tapping her wrist lightly as she shut the door. Jason sighed, flipping the file open. “Do you know why we arrested you, Mister Harper?”

“Nope.” The man looked around the interrogation room, humming. “So, can I go?”

“Nope.” Jason mocked, flipping through the sizeable file. DUIs, DWIs, drug possession, racketeering. Harper had it all, but had never been convicted thanks to Wayne’s influence. This time it was minor, just reckless driving, but he had the suspicion that Harper did it on purpose to get close without getting in trouble.

The door to the interrogation room opened again, and the smooth voice the called out made Jason’s blood run cold. “I believe that’s enough, detective. My client has nothing further to say.”

“I didn’t say anything,” Harper said automatically, tugging on his handcuffs. “You can check the tapes. Right, Jaybird?”

Jason stood slowly, trying hard to keep calm, and carefully gathered Roy’s file. “He’s all yours.”

Timothy Drake-Wayne, the family’s lawyer (among other things) nodded, moving to sit in Jason’s vacated spot, before stopping to do a double take. Jason caught his eye, and watched as the younger man’s eyes widened in surprise before the door slammed in his face.

Jason swore softly as he dumped Harper’s file on Jack’s desk, rubbing his temples. The Waynes weren’t supposed to know he was alive. His plans were all shot to hell if Bruce caught wind that his second son, his dead son, was alive and kicking. More importantly, that his second son was actively trying to take the family down.

Still…at least he had Harper’s information. He wasn’t out of options yet.


	2. Consigliere

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone's got skeletons in their closet.

The ride back to Wayne Manor was deathly quiet.

Roy was afraid to breathe as Tim checked over his files, signing off on release forms and affidavits and his soul, for all he knew. He gulped, clearing his throat. “So, um…”

Tim glanced up momentarily, appraising him, before continuing his work. “Yes?”

“I swear, I didn’t say a damn thing. You can check the tapes and stuff, right?” Of course they could, all they had to do was ask Barbara to drop by the precinct before meeting up with Bruce Wayne and the rest of the Gotham family.

Tim smiled serenely, which frankly freaked Roy out more than any threat they could toss his way. “We will, eventually. Don’t worry about it.”

_Don’t worry about it, he says_. Roy felt his stomach twist nervously as the car slowed to a stop. The old butler walked around, agonizingly slow, and opened his door, nodding. “Master Timothy, Mister Harper. Master Bruce is waiting in his study.”

Tim slipped out, marching up the steps of the imposing Wayne Manor like he was going to be late for something. Roy scrambled after him, breathlessly thanking Alfred before running up the steps.

For the residence of a mob boss, Wayne Manor was bright. The light streamed in from the windows everywhere, making the mansion seem cheery and homey. It was breathtaking, and it always took Roy by surprise.

He stood gaping like an idiot in the foyer until Alfred coughed politely behind him. “Master Bruce is waiting, Mister Harper.”

Flushing, Roy hurried up the stairs, counting the doors under his breath until he reached number twelve on the left. The study. Sucking in a deep breath, he knocked lightly.

“Come in,” a deep voice rumbled. Bracing himself, Roy slipped in.

Tim ignored him, sliding papers in front of Bruce for him to sign. Dick, lounging by the windowsill, waved in greeting but said nothing. Damian was perched on one of the many chairs in the study, idly sharpening a sword. The others were gone, probably on missions.

Roy felt the sweat slide down his neck as he slowly sat across from Bruce. Damian shot him a nasty smirk; the bruise on his face throbbed in remembrance of the kid’s fist.

Bruce continued signing papers for a few more minutes, skimming them over before scribbling his name and handing them back to Tim. Finally, he set his pen down, pinning Roy down with a look. “Roy.”

“Yeah?” Roy hoped to everything that was good and holy that his voice didn’t shake as much as he thought it did.

Bruce sighed, standing. “Why did you get arrested?”

“The cop said reckless driving,” Roy said, ignoring the scoff coming from Damian. “Honest, it was just a swerve to avoid a guy who backed up all of a sudden. No drugs this time.”

“The records check out,” Tim nodded, flipping through his paperwork. “Initial here, B.”

Bruce took the paper again, frowning faintly. “So what did you want to talk about, Tim? If it checks out.”

Tim snapped open his briefcase. “It’s not that Roy did anything wrong. It’s something else.”

They watched as he took a tape from his briefcase and placed it into a player set into the wall. Dick walked over, turning the TV on. “What are we looking at, Timmy?”

The grainy security footage from the interrogation room snapped on the screen, and Roy saw himself grimacing on camera. “ _—missed your face and dulcet tones, Jaybird._ ”

Damian sneered at him after he mentioned his altercation of sorts, but other than that, the room was dead silent. The footage continued playing after Tim arrived to the room and dealt with Roy, and cut off a few minutes later.

Roy swore he heard a pin drop as they turned to look at Bruce. The older man looked deep in thought, but he eventually turned to Roy. “Roy. Do you know that man?”

“He’s the detective…?” Roy shrugged, hoping to ease the tension in his shoulders. “He’s the guy that’s always dealt with my case. I dunno.”

“Why did you call him that?” Dick was watching him carefully, exchanging glances with Tim and Bruce.

“I’unno. The lady in the precinct with the red hair called him that. It seemed to bother him, so I picked it up.” That was sort of the truth. More true than anything else he’d said.

Bruce nodded slowly, closing his eyes. “Thank you, Roy. You’re free to leave now. Tell Lian we said hello.”

It was an offhand comment, but that was the kicker. That was the only reason he was risking his neck for a mission that maybe wouldn’t amount to anything.

Roy nodded, waving to Dick, and hurried out of the room. The foyer didn’t feel so bright anymore.

* * *

 

Dick waited for the door to shut, counting the seconds until the faint echoes of the front door slamming reached them.

“Jason’s dead.”

Damian set his sword down slowly, intrigued despite himself. It was rare when he heard of the dead son, much less heard his name spoken so casually.

Tim rubbed his temples. “I know.”

“Did you see him, Tim?” Bruce didn’t look up, but they felt the expectation. The faint sliver of hope.

“I…saw someone. I don’t know if it was him. It could have been. Maybe.” It was stupid, he’d been thinking about the files he needed to release Roy and the red tape he was going to have to cut through and by the time his brain registered anything the man was gone.

“I can go check it out.” Dick stretched, feeling his back pop. “Drop by the station, check on Babs, get his information on the way.”

“If it’s really him, he wouldn’t have used his name.” Tim was already on the move, tapping rapidly on his phone. “And Barbara doesn’t have the time to check on every officer in Gotham.”

“Well, I’ll ask around then,” Dick huffed. Tim shrugged, but neither moved from their spots. It wasn’t up to them anyways.

Bruce stood slowly, walking to stand by the window. “Tim, find what you can about the detective. Dick, ask around, but that’s all. We don’t have enough to go on to use force yet.”

“Will do, B.” Dick ruffled Damian’s hair in farewell, hurrying out the door to suit up. Tim was slower, walking back to get the security tapes.

“I’ll send you anything I find, boss.”

Damian frowned, watching the door close. “Do you need me to do anything, Father?”

“Not yet, Damian. We aren’t sure what we’re dealing with yet.”

Annoyed, the teenager walked out after his brothers. Let them chase after ghosts. He could find something to do in the meantime.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still on the fence on how far I'm going to take this, but so far it seems good. Tell me what you think!

**Author's Note:**

> I'm definitely considering making this an ongoing au, but we'll see how that goes. :D


End file.
